


Better to Give

by servantofclio



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Party, Presents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:10:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servantofclio/pseuds/servantofclio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Christmas time, Shepard tries to explain gift-giving customs to Garrus. (Set between ME2 and ME3)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better to Give

Sitting on the couch in her quarters, supposedly immersed in a datapad (a collection of odd galactic news that might--just might--relate to the Reapers), Shepard found herself distracted by her companion’s constant motion.

Garrus shifted position about every twenty seconds, stretching out his legs, then tucking them up, tilting his head back, then forward, adjusting the location of his shoulders... It came home to her, as she watched, just how poorly the cushy, human-style couch accommodated the turian’s taller, more angular body. An idea occurred to her.

“Hey Garrus. When’s your birthday?”

Garrus looked up from what he was reading. One mandible flicked out in a smirk. “The fifth of Asnetum.”

Shepard groaned. “The Palaven calendar is not going to help me here.”

EDI piped in, “Shepard, the revolutionary cycle of Palaven is 417 days. The conventions for matching Palaven’s calendar to Earth’s...”

“I’m never going to remember if you tell me, EDI, just forward the information to my terminal, please.”

“Yes, Shepard. Logging you out.”

“Why do you need to know, anyway?”

“How else am I to know when to get you a birthday present?”

“Oh.” Garrus shifted again, hardly even seeming aware he was doing so. “Turians usually don’t do much about birthdays, Shepard. Not once we’re past fifteen, anyway.”

“I’m not turian,” she pointed out.

“I had noticed,” he agreed.

“And humans give birthday presents to people they care about, so.”

Garrus suddenly looked alarmed. “Did I miss your birthday?”

“No, it’s not for a few months.”

He looked relieved, so Shepard added, maliciously, “Though Christmas is coming up. And then Valentine’s day. Gifts are customary on both of those holidays.”

“Are you just making those up to scare me?”

“No, absolutely not. Christmas is a huge gift-exchange fest. I think Kelly wants to organize some kind of Secret Santa exchange. And Valentine’s day”--she waggled her eyebrows-- “is for lovers.”

Garrus leaned his head back and sighed. “EDI, could you send a list of all major human gift-giving occasions to my omni-tool? Thanks. There. I’ll make sure you’re properly cared for on all appropriate occasions.”

Shepard smirked. “You’re too sweet. You realize I’m just teasing, right? I don’t want you to have to stretch that vigilante salary too far.”

“Suuuuure you are. That doesn’t explain why you want to give me something, though.”

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s... not self-explanatory?”

“I think I grasp the pleasure of receiving gifts, Shepard, but--“

“You don’t think it’s fun to give people presents?”

“I haven’t had that many occasions, Shepard. Turian culture doesn’t revolve around gift-giving the way human culture seems to. I’ve picked out gifts for my nephews and nieces, and that’s fun, but it’s because they get toys.”

She shrugged. “There’s a human saying that it’s better to give than to receive. I like picking out just the right thing for someone. Something personal, maybe something they didn’t even know they wanted, or needed. Especially for someone I love.” She stretched out her foot and tapped his knee.

“Just the right thing?” His mandibles twitched. “I’m starting to think the bar for gift-giving is set higher than I thought.”

“Don’t worry too much about it. You know me pretty well, after all.”

He put down his datapad, giving her one of _those_ looks. “I can think of something I could give you right now.”

She smiled. “Why don’t you show me what you have in mind?”

#

His birthday turned out to be months away, as best she could figure. Christmas was much closer. She made her plans accordingly. She let Kelly decorate, and let her organize the Secret Santa exchange. Shepard herself opted out of the exchange, mostly to spare some poor anonymous crewmember the problem of getting saddled with their CO’s gift. She did buy a couple of presents to give privately: a new bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy for Dr. Chakwas, his own model of the Normandy SR-1 for Joker. Her main contribution to the holiday on board, though, was to throw a party for the entire crew. 

It was a good party, she decided. The mess hall was festooned with twinkly lights and paper snowflakes, half the crew were wearing Santa hats, and there was plenty of eggnog. There was a menorah for Goldstein, too, who was showing Ken and some other tipsy crew members the dreidel game. Even the non-human crew were having fun. Samara and Thane seemed to be getting an explanation of various human spiritual traditions, Mordin was singing carols with a boisterous group in the corner, and Grunt had discovered a taste for fruitcake. Tali was giggling at a table with Kelly and Kasumi. Shepard found Garrus observing the caroling with a bemused expression.

“Hey,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Ah, Merry Christmas to you, too.” He added quietly, “It’s good for everyone to relax a little.”

“I thought so.” She slipped an arm around him. “Your present is upstairs.”

They made it to the elevator without anyone noticing. “I didn’t wrap it,” she confessed. “It turned out to be a little unwieldy.”

“Oh? Hm. I did get you something,” he said. “I don’t know about it being fun to give, it’s completely nerve-wracking. Shepard, I just... I hope you like it.”

She grinned, and squeezed his hand. “I’m sure you did fine.”

His present had been impossible to hide, so she just brought the lights up as they entered her quarters. Garrus stopped and stared at it, then glanced at her with startled eyes. Shepard smiled. “Aren’t you going to try it out?”

She followed him over to the sitting area, to the turian-style chair she’d had put there. It had looked utterly strange when she uncrated it: weirdly proportioned and strangely shaped, with cushioning in odd places. With Garrus in it, it looked perfect: the legs the right length for him, with space for his spurs, the back matching the curve of his, and a high padded rest for his neck and head. She watched with her arms folded, smiling, as he tilted his head back and sighed in pure pleasure. “This is perfect, Shepard. It never even occurred to me. How did you know?”

“It just occurred to me the other day that none of the furniture on the ship fits you properly. Everything’s engineered for humans. It can’t be that comfortable, right?”

“I got used to it, but this is so much better. Thank you.” He stood up. “I left yours up here, too. Hope you like it.” From the small desk next to the couch, he produced a squarish package in silver paper, a little clumsily wrapped, and held in place with large quantities of tape. “I had a little help putting it together, though.”

“I didn’t exactly make yours myself,” she said, tearing through the shiny paper to reveal a large picture frame. Garrus reached out and pressed the button that turned it on.

The first picture that greeted her was of Ashley and Kaidan, her smiling broadly, him with the usual half-smile. The second showed the whole squad from the first Normandy: herself with Ash and Kaidan on either side, Tali and Wrex and Liara and Garrus beyond them. She remembered that day. It was after they’d finished the Feros mission and come back to the Citadel flushed with victory, feeling as though they were finally getting somewhere, and they’d hit Flux to celebrate. Joker had been behind the camera, she remembered. There was a whole set of photos that the frame slowly cycled through: the birthday party they’d had for Joker in the SR-1’s cramped mess; the snowball fight Kaidan had started on Noveria; posed shots in several locations. A second set included all of the current crew. She blinked back tears. She’d lost all her personal mementos when the first Normandy went down; the thought had given her a pang, a couple of times, but she’d never really thought about replacing them. She looked up.

“I hope those are the good kind of tears,” said Garrus, mandibles flaring into a hesitant smile.

“Thank you,” she breathed, and hugged him tightly. His arms came around her in return.

“Okay, I think I get it.” His voice sounded amused. “The look on your face was totally worth it.”

“Where did you get the pictures?” she asked, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

“I had a few, not very many. Tali and Joker had a lot more, and Liara had quite a few. Kelly tracked down a lot of the ones from here. I made a couple of offsite backups, too.”

“Thank you. So much.” She pressed her lips against his mouth. “I didn’t even know how much I was missing stuff like that, until just now.”

“You’re welcome.” He leaned his head against hers. “Merry Christmas, love.”


End file.
